Japan Station No. 1: Stay Woke

Sean and Matt leaned over and moved in closer to get a better look at Bryan who was shaking like a bobble head, as he opened his eyes open like a window in the summertime, as a breeze sweeps through and calms the tension within the house, his arms and legs rolling up and down on the bed he laid on, like whips undulating back and forth. They were worried about their new friend. He didn’t look okay, didn’t look good, which gave them cause for concern. Bryan was just beginning to wrench free and pull away from the heavy haze of his dream, as the snow began to melt outside, turning into slush and water, the leftover frost evaporating off the windowpane, like vapors. Waters, in small swells and big swells, rose in the front yard, seeping onto the porch, covering it until it looked like a large aquarium. Sean pulled down the string-cord and the blinds went down, the view of the great swells of water vanishing instantly. He turned back to Bryan, shuffled over to to the bed, and took a wet rag, and dabbed it across his forehead.


Matt noticed that the heart-shaped piece of wood was vibrating incessantly like a phone receiving a notification, or a missed call. While Sean attended to Bryan, Matt went over to the glass table and picked up the wooden heart and held it in his hand, as it glowed brilliantly with light and warmth. Suddenly, rising and glowing, the wooden heart lifted up slowly from Matt’s hand and began to spin around and around in the air. The heart opened up, revealing a light, and from its center, a hologram emerged and plastered a large digital map on the drywall.


Sean got up from kneeling and went over to Matt and together they watched as a blinking dot with the name “Abigail over it” blinked over and over on the map.


“It’s like a GPS.”


Sean and Matt turned around.


Bryan was starting to stand up from the couch, soaked in sweat, pointing at the map on the wall. “We need to go there and find Abigail,” he said, his eyes clear and focused.


And then the door broke open wide, and the swells of waves breached through the opening, and water seeped into the house like contagion entering a human body.


Andy Tran is a young professional working and living in the Washington DC metro area. His work has been featured in The Virginia. Normal, Defenestration Magazine, and Calliope, and currently at Queens Mob Teahouse. He's a graduate of Virginia Commonwealth University, and he has a degree in English.


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